Funhouse: Redemption
by TheDarkLegate
Summary: After being unceremoniously booted from his spotlight, Chris will stop at nothing to retake his already dwindling fame and fortune. But with no interns, no budget, and hidden agendas, it won't be easy. A cautionary tale. Rated M for mature themes. Cancelled.


To some, _Paradise_ was just that. To Prisha, it was just another garish nightclub promising so much

more than it was. Through the dense fog machines and plastic palm trees, the vibrant hues of purple and pink, it was the same music, the same hazy, grinding crowd of drunks, the same onlookers at the bar hoping to get lucky, and the same, stupid bartender who had to pull out his phone every time you asked him to make something that wasn't a margarita or a mojito. Prisha sat alone in a corner booth, quietly sipping a pina colada as the room pulsed to the rhythm of some song she couldn't remember the name of. She looked down at her sleek, purple dress, lipstick and heels to match, and regretted dressing up at all. She was too good for a place like this, with her dark skin, long, curly black hair, and beautiful looks. Far too good for a place like this.  
...but then, where else would she have to be?  
"Hey you!" there was a laugh as a chipper young blonde woman slid into the booth next to her. Prisha knew her well- Jenna, a "friend". The blonde gave a sly smile, playfully slapping her arm. "You didn't tell me you were coming here tonight, you bitch!"

Prisha gave an indifferent shrug, sipping her drink once more. "Wasn't going to. I got bored."  
"You're _always_ bored," Jenna said, giving her eyes a roll. "You're such a down- Marcy, get _over_ here! Prish, you remember Marcy, right?"  
Prisha rolled her eyes as another woman joined them. then another, then another, then a couple of boys, just like every night she had gone there. A round of shots were ordered, just like every night, and a little something extra was passed around, just like every night. She didn't partake- this time- as she watched Jenna snort something off a napkin, before passing it to one of the men next to her.  
"So- ooh!" Jenna shuddered, a pleased smile spreading across her lips, knuckles wrapping on the table briefly before continuing. "So you guys hear? About that thing?"  
"Huh? Ohhh, that singing dog?" One of the men looked up groggily from his drink. "Yeah, I heard about that. Wiiiild stuff!"

"What? I'm not talking about a dog!" She rolled her eyes, clumsily grasping her glass, nearly spilling it. "No, I'm talking about the ad!"  
"What ad?"  
"That's what I'm trying to tell you, geez!"  
Prisha sighed, tuning out the conversation, thinking of ways to excuse herself when a single word snapped her to attention.  
"-contest, right? And they're giving away money to the winner!" Jenna giggled as she finished her drink, wiping her mouth. "I think I'm totally gonna enter~"  
"aw, sweet? gonna be a reality star?" the guy asked. "Yeah, they wanted me on-"  
"You. shut up," Prisha ordered, silencing the man, who looked indignant. "Jenna, what are you talking about?"  
"Oh, I was just telling Mick about that ad going around- for the webshow," she explained, looking up at Prisha. "That one guy... big in Canada, had his own show for a bit... Chris... something? Well, he's back with a new show now. they've been playing commercials for it nonstop online lately... here, lemme show you!"  
Prisha practically yanked the guy- Mick, probably, she didn't care- out of his seat, shoving him aside as she sat next to Jenna, the girl pulling out her smartphone. Prisha snatched it away, staring over the screen as the ad began to play.

"Heyyy!" Jenna groaned, Prisha quickly shushing her as a familiar face came on screen.  
" _Hey there, Chris McLean here- and have I got an offer for you_!"

~o.0.o~

 _"Welcome... to the Funhouse. One house, twelve contestants, one hundred grand in prize money! Stuck with strangers in a house full of challenges both psychological and physical! If you think YOU'VE got what it takes, send in-"_

Ash smiled to himself as he closed the video on his phone, shaking his head slightly as he was returned to his email. _"Check this vid out, thought you might be interested,"_ the subject read, and under any other circumstance Ash would have dismissed it as chain-mail and quickly sent it to the great trash-bin in the sky. It was only upon seeing the sender that he decided to pay it any mind at all- though he still doubted he'd give it a second thought.  
"Ash!" a young woman poked her head into the office he currently inhabited, her voice urgent. "One of the kids took a nasty spill, we need you out here!"  
Ash nodded, slipping his phone into his pocket as he gripped his chair, pushing himself out of his seat. "Be right there," he told her, before eyeing his cane. After all, a game like that meant challenges- and what good would he be?  
Cane in hand, Ash slowly made his way out into the medical room, a young boy sat nearby, breathing steadily as he clutched his wrist. It was someone Ash had seen around- a John or a Joey or a Jaime, on the baseball team.  
"Hey." Ash offered a smile a he sat next to him, giving a once over. "...Jaime, right?"  
The boy nodded, silent, shivering a bit as he looked away. Freshman, Ash realized, whole rest of high school ahead of him. It was probably his first real injury, mind racing with thoughts of how he'd never play again. Ash knew the feeling well.  
"Can I?" Ash asked, holding out a hand. Jaime gave another, hesitant nod, slowly extending his arm. Ash gingerly took ahold of it, eyeing it over. It swollen, a little bruised. But it didn't seem bad. The usual questions followed shortly thereafter- what happened? Can you move this, feel these, does it hurt? It didn't take long to figure out what had happened.  
"Give me just a second," Ash said, getting to his feet. "Think I know what's wrong." Jaime watched as Ash slowly hobbled out of the room, returning a short while later, one hand behind his back.  
"Well, bad news," Ash said, stone faced, tone even, "initial prognosis looks grim. I think we're going to have to amputate." He couldn't help but smirk at the boy's reaction, widening eyes and dropping jaw. "Relax, relax, I'm kidding!" Ash pulled out an ice pack from behind his back. "It's just a sprained wrist, I think- to be safe, I can refer you to a doctor, get you an x-ray-"  
"No! no," Jaime stammered, shaking his head. "I-I-I don't need an x-ray!"  
Ash frowned, looking up at the boy. "...look," he said after a while, "I know you don't want to miss practice. First injury just as you're getting the swing of things. I know how that goes. But trust me, its better to miss a few days now than to miss everything later. Odds are you'll be fine, but the worst thing you could do is go and aggravate it further. That injury gets worse, and... well. Just trust me. It's better to play these things safe."  
Jaime sighed, looking away, before sighing, and giving a nod. "Fine..."  
Ash smiled brightly, standing. "Good. Lollipop?"  
It wasn't long before Ash saw the boy out, sitting back in his office. His office. He was a little young to have an office, he thought to himself, and even then he looked younger still than he really was. Tall, muscular, with lightly tanned skin and long blonde hair he couldn't quite bring himself to cut. He was a bit young to be a school nurse- and, well, male- but he dealt exclusively with sports related injuries, and was treated as more of an intern besides. It was a miracle he held his current position to begin with, even with his degree in sports medicine. He owed it all to one person in particular, he knew, though he didn't know how to make it up to her.  
Still- even with that aside, he knew it wouldn't last forever. Summer was coming, and he'd find himself unemployed for three months, which, with bills and debt, wasn't really an option.  
He glanced over at his cane, closing his eyes and and taking a breath. His bum leg left him without a lot of job alternatives. Though... he supposed they were there if he looked hard enough. Slowly, hesitantly, he pulled out his phone. One hundred grand was a lot of money, after all.  
~o.0.o~  
"Okay guys, oh em gee, its RUBI! Your gal is back with ANOTHER vlog video today, but this time we're doing something interesting!"  
Rubi didn't have a grasp on what interesting was, most of the time. Her vlogs consisted mostly of the small mundanities that wove together her life, retold in her typically naive and energetic fashion. Despite this, as well as her admittedly obnoxious misspelling of her own name, her high pitched voice and lack of self awareness, she had a certain... charisma that had amassed her near a million online followers. Her looks may have played a role in her success;short, bobbed brown and blonde streaked hair, blue eyed, usually clad in an outfit that bordered on close to too revealing. Regardless of the reason, the goal of a million followers remained a tantalizing milestone for her. at least until she abandoned it for the only slightly more difficult goal of a billion followers.  
"So, I had just made an update video about getting my nails done earlier today, and I was browsing the comments when I saw someone tell me I should sign up for Funhouse!" Rubi smiled brightly, before it faded a bit. "Okay, I really wasn't sure what it was, so I asked, and I got linked to an advertisement that I guess they're playing on everyone's channel- I mean, I have adblock, so I wouldn't know, but I guess that's what's happening, right? Well, it sounded _super fun_ , so I started to fill out the application when I got to the personality quiz! I thought it would be _more_ super fun if we filled it out together! So, first question! How would I describe myself! Well, Rubi Rocks, what do you think?"  
Rubi Rocks was the nickname she had rather hastily dumped on her fanbase when she learned it was the trendy thing to do. She received no response from them, however, as she was recording the video off-air as opposed to a stream, a mistake she soon realized.  
"Oh... you aren't watching yet, are you? Well, that doesn't matter. I'd say I'm super fun, really funny, pretty, and, uh, charming! Question two... what makes you a good fit for our show?" Rubi scoffed, giving an exaggerated eye roll. "I just _said_ , didn't I? Question three... what skills do you have that would be good for... ugh, they just keep asking the same thing over and over! Oh, here's a good one! Which of Chris McLean's works are your favorites? Well, he was really good in that Guardians of the Universe movie, oh, and the one about dinosaurs!... that _was_ the same Chris, right?"  
Question after question continued like this, Rubi responding either in confusion or annoyance. When the time finally came to submit an audition tape, she let out a frustrated groan. "Ugh, what's the point? I'll just link them to my channel!" It was a quick copy and paste before Ruby hit send, turning back to her camera. "That wasn't much fun, was it? Sorry guys! Well, stay tuned for news on whether I make it in or not- right now, I'm gonna go work on part one hundred and nine of my Minecraft let's play! See you, Rubi Rocks!"  
~o.0.o~  
"So, its to be an audition tape, then? Hm." Ian gave a small smile, eyes moving to the red light in the top corner of his camera, then to his mirror. He looked perfect, as usual- his silky brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, stubble evenly shaved, a single earring adorning his right lobe, outfit a simple black turtleneck and olive green pants, outfit finished off with a pair of black loafers. "Such a cliche; but I suppose if a picture is worth a hundred words, a video must be worth a million- especially if its of me." Ian brushed a strand of hair out of his face, a confident grin on his lips. "So, this is the comeback of the great Chris McLean of Badminton fame, hm? Truly a historic moment. Anyone with any sense would give their all just to be a part of it; and I've plenty of sense, among other things. I'm something of an... intellectual."  
Ian's apartment backed up what he was saying- the room he filmed in currently was decorated simply but elegantly, abstract photos and paintings hung about, with a small clay sculpture resting on the room's only table.  
"Indeed- you've had your share of 'artists' in your previous endeavors, I know, but I don't enjoying moping around about life, no. No, my passion lies in the intellectual stimuli, of fine wine, women and song! Of course, among my passions lies poetry, an art I've dedicated... surprisingly little time to mastering. When I set my mind to something, I learn it fast. And to demonstrate, I've written a poem about you, Chris. Enjoy."  
Ian lifted a bottle of water to his lips, drinking slightly, before placing it back down, closing his eyes and taking a breath, before reciting the words from memory.  
" _To join this show, I shan't be late,  
I beg of you, don't make me wait,  
The truth, Chris, is you are so great.  
I've checked my calendar, marked my date,  
Because Chris. you're really. Really Great."  
_Ian flourished, giving a bow. "The poem ends thusly, though if you're interested, I'd be happy to send along a few more, as well as a photo gallery of some of my paintings and sculptures. But, that's not why I speak with you today. Allow me on your show, Chris- and I guarantee. You'll see a class of competitor the likes of which are yet unknown. Thank you, and adieu." Another bow followed this, before Ian switched off his camera, smiling. This should get him on the show, he thought. Chris was all ego.  
~o.0.o~  
Helena took a deep breath, clutching the cross around her neck as she murmured a prayer, knees wobbly as she stood outside airport security. Her long brown hair hung to her shoulders and beyond, the young woman dressed modestly in a long black skirt and white blouse.  
"Nervous, sister?" a voice giggled.  
Helena gasped, startled as her eyes shot open, her close friend Miranda standing in front of her, arms crossed, smiling. Helena hadn't heard her approach.  
"You startled..." Helena shook her head, feeling more flustered. "I... yes. Very nervous."  
"Well, no one will judge you if you do poorly," Miranda smiled, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Shows like these can be difficult-"  
"I was talking about flying," Helena admitted, face reddening slightly.  
Miranda, caught off guard, had to suppress a giggle. "Flying? But you've flown before, haven't you?"  
"On my mission, I did," Helena nodded, still embarrassed, "but it hasn't gotten any easier... I much prefer solid ground. Though... I suppose I am nervous about the show, as well."  
Miranda chuckled, giving a reassuring squeeze. "You seemed so confident, yesterday. Did your parents try to talk you out of it?"  
Helena nodded, looking up once more. "They told me shows like this are breeding grounds for vice and wrong-doing. I just hope, being surrounded by all that... I wanted to do this to be an example. To show that doing the right thing and having faith can be rewarded. That you don't need to lie or manipulate or hurt to make money... I just hope the show doesn't become an example to me."  
Miranda shook her head, giving a tut- sounding almost disappointed. "You're being silly. You've got the two things that matter most... a strong mind, and a good heart. I trust you to do the right thing, always. Especially when you're always so worried about doing the wrong thing."  
Both girls smiled slightly, before exchanging a quick hug. "Take care of yourself, Helena. Have faith. I'll pray for you."  
"Thank you, Miranda." Helena pulled away, slowly feeling her confidence return. "I will. I'll return home, soon."  
"And hopefully with a lot of money," Miranda teased, gently pushing her toward the gates. "For charity, of course."  
"Of course," Helena giggled, before turning and stepping into the line.  
~o.0.o~  
" _The truth is, Chris, you are so great._ Aww, thanks, dude!" Chris grinned as he closed the video, pocketing his phone. He always did appreciate good taste from his contestants. "So that's... twelve. Perrrfect."  
Well, not exactly perfect. Twelve wasn't Chris' ideal number of contestants. The more people he had on the show, the more people he had to hurt. But it was enough for now, anyway. Enough for the webseries. Chris had been out of the game for too long, and he needed something to get him back into it. He had been left in relative disgrace after his pride and joy, the show that he had built, was cancelled silently. He had gone back to being worse than c-list, and even the most unknown of talk shows didn't want him. He had no interns to do his bidding, no sponsorship, and no budget. Well... no budget that was on the books, anyway. Just him, an old friend, and too much time on his hands.  
Chris looked up at the mansion he had stood in front of so many times before- overgrown and dilapidated. For now, at least. Outside, there was only one decoration- a clown statue that stood, wielding a small, bloodied axe, eyes glowing a bright yellow. Inside was only more broken down- an uninhabitable deathtrap. There it was; his Funhouse.  
"Perrrfect," he said again, a grin coming to his face.  
After all- he had made more with less.  
 **TO BE CONTINUED**


End file.
